When he got back among the willows and alders and birch, dozens of little canals crossed and crisscrossed in his path.

Some of these canals were a foot wide, and others three or four feet, and all were filled with water.

No country in the world ever had a better system of traffic than this domain of the beavers, down which they brought their working materials and food into the main reservoir--the pond.
In one of the larger canals Baree surprised a big beaver towing a four-foot cutting of birch as thick through as a man's leg--half a dozen breakfasts and dinners and suppers in that one cargo.

The four or five inner barks of the birch are what might be called the bread and butter and potatoes of the beaver menu, while the more highly prized barks of the willow and young alder take the place of meat and pie.
Baree smelled curiously of the birch cutting after the old beaver had abandoned it in flight, and then went on.

He did not try to conceal himself now, and at least half a dozen beavers had a good look at him before he came to the point where the pond narrowed down to the width of the stream, almost half a mile from the dam.